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"Well, another day of Mystery and Adventure, eh Lydia?" Slutcat said, trying to be as cheerful as possible given the hangover they were both feeling. Breakfast had helped, to be sure.

"That's the spirit!" Sworddog chimed in.

Both Lydia and Slutcat scowled at the dog. "We're not talking to you right now, Sworddog," Lydia grunted.

"We'll get over it, but maybe you'd best be quiet for a little while."

"Jeeze, he just wanted to see your butts. What's the big deal? A couple days ago you would have bedded that guy in a heartbeat!" the dog complained.

"That's different. And besides, we're not talking to you," Slutcat replied.

"Got you a free breakfast," Sworddog muttered to herself.

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"One thousand steps, they say," Lydia said to Slutcat. "It's a pilgrimmage for many, though the Greybeards rarely let anyone into their fortress at the top."

"One... thousand... steps..." Slutcat said hesitantly.

"Well, that's what they say. I've never been myself."

"All of them going up I assume?" Slutcat asked, looking up at the peak nearly lost in the distance.

"I think you are safe to assume that."

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As they came to a bridge at the edge of town, two men were talking there.

"Oh! Hi Slutcat! Remember me from last night?" one of them called to her.

"Er... not really. Sorry," she replied, unsure of what kind of encounter she may have had with this man. She noted he wasn't too bad looking though, for an old bald guy.

"Oh, that's a shame. You showed me your birthmark!"

Slutcat's eyes grew large. Her birthmark was in an extremely private place!

"My birthmark?" she stammered, looking back at Lydia.

"Sure! Looks like a little heart right by your..."

"Sorry" she interrupted, moving on past the man. "Gotta go. Gotta get to High Hrothgar today. Maybe I'll see you on the way back!"

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Later Slutcat was breathing hard. "Whew!" she said, looking forlornly at Lydia. "This... mountain climbing... is hard work!"

Lydia looked at her, puzzled. "Mountain climbing? Slutcat we're walking up steps. We're not exactly what I would call mountain climbing. And..."

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Lydia looked to her left. They had maybe climbed 20 steps.

"We just left Ivarstead Slutcat!"

Slutcat looked past Lydia. "Well, it's just possible that I'm a little out-of-shape."

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An hour later and Slutcat collapsed and began crawling on her hands and knees while Lydia looked on, bemused.

"Slutcat, we're not even to the snow line yet,' Lydia said with disdain. "At this rate we'll be lucky to make it by tomorrow!"

Slutcat looked up at the mountain peak barely visible in the distance and nearly straight up. She squeaked a little in desparation.

"Perhaps you need to stop for a break?"

"DO YOU THINK?!!!" Slutcat gasped.

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Slutcat rolled over on her back, trying to catch her breath.

"I thought you cats were supposed to be... I don't know... all wild and nature-y," Lydia said, looking at the heaving chest.

"This cat is made for love... not... stairs!"

"I'm sorry Slutcat, but we're never going to make it like this. Maybe we should turn back."

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"I... have an idea about that. You know what you're always saying? You're sworn to carry my burdens?"

"Yeeeeeees?" Lydia answered hesitantly.

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"Dammit Slutcat, my boobs are not handles!" Lydia grumbled as she carried her burden up the steps.

"Sorry Lydia. But it's just where my hands naturally go!"

"And your fingernails are too sharp too."

"'Sworn', I believe was the word. What does that word mean, Lydia? 'Sworn'?"

"Well dammit, stop playing with my nipples anyway!"

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"I liked it better on your back," Slutcat was saying as they continued up the mountain.

"My shoulders will have to do," Lydia told her lord. "I said I'd carry you. I didn't say how."

"You know, at least I can help keep you warm," the Khajiit smiled, her feet against Lydia's breasts.

"Hey! Stop playing footsies with my boobs now!"

"This little piggie went to market..."

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